Perfect Mate? If You Say So
by Altyerre
Summary: Well...it's your typical Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate story. It's a typical Severitis response. It's your typical 'poor abused Harry' tale. Maybe it's not so typical after all.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_**Author: Altyerre**_

_**Title: Perfect Mate? If You Say So**_

_**Fandom: Harry Potter**_

_**Summary: Well...it's your typical Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate story. It's a typical Severitis response. It's your typical 'poor abused Harry' tale. Maybe it's not so typical after all.**_

_**Warnings: AU, slash, language (light), MPreg (references), child abuse (references), Manipulative!Dumbledore. Don't like, don't read.**_

_**Disclaimer: Sadly nobody you recognise belongs to me, they're the property of J.. Even the main plots are not mine...at least a couple hundred fanfiction authors have done it first (what can I say? I like a good idea.)**_

_**Spoilers: Up to OoTP**_

_**Rating:**_

**Prologue**

For the first year of Harry James Potter's life he was loved and cherished by two wonderful parents and spoilt rotten by a magically inclined prankster also known as his godfather. Sadly, this did not last, the happy homestead destroyed by a self-titled Dark Lord. After his parents' deaths, on the orders of one Albus Dumbledore, little Harry was sent to live with his muggle relatives, the Dursleys.

The next ten years of his life were not charmed in anyway. By the time he was three, little Harry Potter did all the cleaning at #4 Privet Drive, and at five he had taken over all the chores. From these he had many scars added to his tiny frame. He received gashes up and down his legs from mowing the lawn, and cooking led to burns on his forearms. Cooking was his most hated chore, for there was food he could see and smell but could not eat. If he was lucky he got the scraps off their plates, otherwise he got nothing. Harry attended school rarely, the minimum required, any less and the police would have been knocking on the Dursleys door, though he knew it not. The rest of the time was spent either at chores or locked in his room, the cupboard under the stairs.

Yes, by the time he was eleven Harry's aunt, uncle and cousin had abused the young boy in every way imaginable. His clothes were hand me downs, worn until faded through. His toys were cleaning supplies and instead of hugs and kisses he got bruises and broken bones. Instead of love, he got hate.

When he turned eleven, Harry learnt about witches and wizards, about Hogwarts and the truth to his parents' death. For the month between his birthday and the start of school the Dursleys ignored him so when he entered platform nine and three quarters there was not a bruise upon his body, though he was far skinnier than every other first year. In the space of that day, Harry Potter went from servant to 'Savoir', from house elf to hero. He made his first friends ever and settled into a routine of schooling.

Despite the dangers that seemed to come about each and every year, Harry quickly came to view Hogwarts as home and as such began to beg the headmaster to let him stay over the summer holidays. By the end of second year that changed to being able to stay with the Weasleys at the Burrow. By third year, Remus Lupin had added his name to the list. The end of fourth year, Sirius Black's name had been added. This year so soon after Sirius's death, Harry had pleaded with everyone in sight to stay anywhere else. Ron had supported him but Hermione had muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'suck it up, it's not that bad'. Some of the adults in the Order of the Phoenix were sympathetic, especially Remus and Molly, but Dumbledore had spoken and that was that. Harry had grinned at the show of support when he met Vernon at the train station, but when they left and Harry was forced to enter the car with a purple faced uncle, he knew this was not going to be a good summer.

He was right.

The first blow came not from his family however, but in the form of a rather terse note from Hermione on the second day. It said, in barely a full sentence, that she would not be in contact with Harry for the rest of the holidays. Neither Ron nor Harry could understand what was going on, and Harry couldn't demand an answer as he had once again forced Hedwig to take up residence at the Burrow to protect her from a vindictive Dudley. Indeed, the only owl to continually brave the wrath of Harry's cousin was the dedicated post owl that brought him the paper at exactly 9:22 each morning.

The second emotional blow came just three days before his 16th birthday. Harry was lying on his lumpy bed in the second bedroom, nursing his recently relocated left shoulder. Tapping on the window between the bars was an immature barn owl that he did not recognise.

"Hey, boy," Harry whispered to it softly, retrieving the letter. "I'm sorry I don't have any treats for you." It nipped his fingers lightly, and with a soft hoot flew back into the night.

"Best conversation I've had in a week." Harry muttered to himself, gingerly sitting on the bed. He opened the unmarked letter.

_Harry,_

_I could say that I wish to see you, but rather I wish for you to see me, to see me and to stay with me, somewhere safe. Unfortunately, it is not to be. I was going to write to tell you to expect to see me on your birthday, but circumstances have changed._

_After my failure with the British werewolves, Dumbledore has "asked" me to approach the second largest colony of werewolves, those in Australia. Reluctant as I am to accept this assignment, I am unable to refuse it. Since the start of summer only the Weasley twins have succeeded in saying no to Albus. They are no longer members of the Order, but they have their joke shop. I've nought but you, my cub, and the memory of my mate. Suffice to say, that is not an advantage when dealing with the old man._

_I'm posting this, with every ward and protection charm I can think of, from the portkey point. I feel it is better if you hear the full truth of what I'm doing from me. I don't know what the other members of the Order will tell you, but I doubt that it will be the truth. I will be out of contact with you, and indeed the whole of England, until Christmas unless we can reach an accord earlier. Doubtful, to say the least._

_I will say this however; I love you, my cub, and I am proud of you. No matter what happens between now and when I next see you, nothing will change that. My wolf has claimed you as its cub and I've claimed you as the son of my heart. _

_Remember you are loved,_

_Moony_

Harry leaned back on the bed. 'No Remus until Christmas'. He blinked away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He opened the small parcel that had come with the letter. It was a necklace and locket in the shape of a crest. He quickly read the attached note.

_Happy Birthday, cub. _

_It's the Black family crest; after all you are now heir._

Sure enough Harry recognised the crest as the one emblazed on nearly every surface at Grimmauld Place. He felt a sharp pang in his chest at the thought of Sirius. Blinking hard, he clicked the locket open. Inside was a muggle picture of two grey wolves laying down on a rock with a black cub between them. The other space was empty. Coming to a quick decision, Harry ripped the last paragraph of Remus' letter off and, folding it tightly, stuffed it into the empty space. He placed it around his neck, silently vowing to get a real picture of him and Moony to put in the slot at the earliest opportunity.

Until then he was alone with nothing but words to keep him company.

.

**Chapter 1**

**30****th**** July**

Harry lay on his bed, staring at his clock and ignoring the painful cramping of his stomach. He was incredibly grateful that it would soon be his birthday. He'd run out of the food that he'd taken from Hogwarts during the last week of term, and he'd had to make do with the next to nothing that his family provided. Hagrid always sent fudge, enough to ration for three weeks. As he watched the clock approach midnight, Harry remembered that a wizard's 16th birthday was the most important in their life.

Sure, you were counted as an adult when you turned 17, but at 16 you received your Inheritance. This allowed the wizard a year to adjust to the changes before they became legally responsible. Inheritance was different for everyone; most muggle born wizards barely even registered an inheritance while for purebloods it could be spectacular.

Harry thought back on what Ron had told the Gryffindor boys the night before his 16th. The Weasleys as a pureblood family had always had luck their Inheritance.

Bill had gotten a massive power boost solely focused on reversal spells, his '_Finite Incateratum' _still the strongest ever seen at Hogwarts. This had influenced his choice of job; he was now a curse breaker, and an extremely good one at that.

Charlie's job choice was also due in large part to his inheritance. He was the first Weasley in two generations to exhibit creature blood, that of a Fae, which had made him ideally suited to dragontamming. Ron had waved off their questions with a 'go look it up if you want'. Being fifth year boys they did no such thing.

Percy had discovered a skill in all things paper related, although, as Ron pointed out, that had not exactly come as a shock to anyone.

The twins had doubled their overall power levels, as well as developing a strong affinity for chaos magic, a branch of magic not generally taught at Hogwarts. It explained more than it didn't.

It took Ron less than an hour with Professor McGonagall to discover he had gained a boost in his overall power levels and now had an enviable knack for self transfiguration. This would make it easier for him to become an animagus.

The Weasleys were odd as a pureblood family, only one in six (eight if you count Molly and Arthur) with a creature inheritance. For most purebloods it was one in three or four who would have a dominant creature inheritance. The inheritance was from the Vampyres, Veela, Fae, Daemon, Shiveran and other creatures that had married into families hundreds of years ago. The genes remained dormant until the right cross was achieved and the creature blood came to the fore.

Harry, as a halfblood, was expecting to develop an affinity to a certain kind of magic. 'Please don't let it be divination,' he thought as his clock ticked over to midnight. Looking out the window he saw two—no three—owls approaching. He practically pounced on them when they reached the window. Thanking the two school owls he retrieved the package and letters, and pulled Pig inside his room.

"How come you're here and not Hedwig?" Harry asked, removing the tiny package, which immediately began to grow, and released the tiny ball of feathers that was Ron's owl. He ripped open the box from Hagrid (easily distinguished by the bad wrapping) and tore into the large block of fudge, not caring about the flavour. He set the card (which wished him a happy birthday and good luck with his Inheritance) aside and grabbed the package from Ron. There was a note attached to the side. Harry dodged a dive bombing Pig and read it.

_Hey Harry,_

_None of us have the foggiest as to what spell you put on Hedwig's cage when you moved her. None of us (And that's mum and dad too) can break it so she's stuck in the cage and I have to send Pig with your presents. Send back Pig with the countercharm, and we'll probably be kicking ourselves for not having thought to try it._

_Anyway, Happy Birthday and I hope those muggles aren't giving you too much grief. If they are Fred and George are looking for some new testers for their gags ___

_Ron._

Harry frowned; the only charm on Hedwig's cage was the standard suspension one that kept her from being shaken around too much. Never the less, he obediently wrote out the countercharm and gave it to Pig before opening his presents.

Ron had gotten him refills for his broom maintenance kit and a book '_Tactical Advantage: Seekers Feints and when to use them'_ one of a series of Quidditch books that described, in detail, almost every move legal (and some not so) that could be used.

Hermione had sent a book as well '_A Common Magical Inheritance'_. The thin book gave exercises to be done if one developed an affinity to Charms, Transfiguration, Potions or Astronomy; the most common affinities for a halfblood. There was no note save '_To Harry, From Hermione'_ and he had not heard from her since the start of summer.

The twins had given him a selection of their new range of potion pranks. The tiny vials of potion (tasteless and odourless when added to pumpkin juice) would cause havoc at Hogwarts. They'd thoughtfully included the antidote which would protect him from the same potions for six months. Looking at the vials of sex-changers, species-changers and boil-inducers, among others, he decided that the last thing he did before leaving the Dursleys would be to swallow that particular potion.

Finally, Molly (though the card said 'The Weasley Family') had sent him new boxers, socks and a fruit pie. The underwear, while downright embarrassing, was defiantly needed even if the note attached to the black boxers, _'The smallest size I could find',_ upped the blush on his checks, more so because they were too large around the waist and Molly had probably guess that. The fruit pie was most welcome; between that, the fudge and the Dursleys' scraps Harry figured he wouldn't lose too much more weight over the holidays.

Grabbing the last of his letters, the official Hogwarts one, Harry slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside, wondering at the fluke that resulted in his O. being delivered on his birthday.

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_Pass Grades: Outstanding (O)_

_ Exceeds Expectations (E)_

_ Acceptable (A)_

_Fail Grades:Poor (P)_

_ Dreadful (D)_

_ Troll (T)_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED_

_Practical: Theoretical:_

_Astronomy: A -_

_Care of Magical Creatures: E -_

_Charms: E O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: O O_

_Divination: P A_

_Herbology: O E_

_History of Magic: - D_

_Potions: O E_

_Transfiguration: E O_

Attached to the back of the parchment was a note from Professor McGonagall.

_Dear Students and Parents,_

_Congratulations on some wonderful O.W.L results. Please note that the standard workload of a sixth year N.E.W.T student is eight subjects. Students must carry-on between four and seven of their O.W.L subjects. If you did not receive __**at least four**__ O. you are no longer eligible to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The entrance mark for each class will be at the digression of the teacher and the remainder of the students course load will be made up of N.E.W.T electives. Overleaf is a list of these subjects; placing your wand on a subject name will give a brief overview of the subject and any prerequisites._

_At the end of this letter you will note that there are __**ten**__ blank spaces. Please write in them your subject selection, __**in order of preference**__. You are required to fill every space, although most of you will only take eight subjects, as you are not guaranteed to meet the entrance requirements for the classes you choose._

_Thankyou,_

_Prof. Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress._

Harry sighed, he'd think about subject selection tomorrow. Putting the food under the loose floorboard and the books in his trunk, Harry climbed into bed. A quick look at the clock revealed it to be 12:37, only five hours before his new day of chores would start. 'Funny', Harry thought, folding his glasses on the bedside table, 'I don't feel anything different from my inheritance; Ron described it as a new buzz that hangs around for the first couple of days.' Shrugging mentally, Harry drifted of to sleep, careful to lie on his back and not aggravate his ribs.

An hour and a half later—well at 2:14 and 32 seconds (and exactly sixteen years since Harry Potter had drawn his first breath) —Harry arched his back sharply off the bed, and hung there as if suspended. White light speared from his belly button, fingers and eyes. From there it spread engulfing his whole head, hands and abdomen. It settled for about five minutes before dissipating slowly as Harry was set, gently, back on the bed. He curled himself tightly into a ball, with a pained whimper as his various bruises made themselves known, and drifted back into a deep sleep.

**31****st**** July**

The next morning started like any other at #4 Privet Drive. Harry awoke suddenly at exactly 5:30 am but didn't move. Slowly tensing and relaxing each and every muscle, running a mental list of each hurt, he listened intently. After determining no-one was in the room with him, a task that took five to ten minutes, Harry rolled out of bed. Shoving his glasses on his face, he grabbed clean clothes and moved out of the room. It wasn't until he grabbed today's list of chores, that was stuck on the outside of his door, that he realised everything was unusually blurry. Quickly dismissing the possibility of a concussion, Harry shrugged and moved to the bathroom. It was a Sunday, the one day a week that he was allowed to shower, and he wasn't going to waste his ten minutes puzzling over his sight.

In the bathroom he quickly stripped and divesting himself of his glasses, he was surprised to see everything become into clear. Indeed, it was the clearest he'd ever seen. Shaking his head, 'puzzle it out later', he jumped under the hot water. Washing his hair, Harry discovered it longer than he remembered. 'Okay, that's it'. Harry yanked open the shower curtain and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.

His hair, already black, had darkened further and grown maybe two inches. His eyes commanded attention, no longer the bright green of Lily Evans, they were now a deep and pure jade, perfectly clear save for flecks of unfathomable onyx, the perfect opposite to the sparking jade. The eyes seemed to take up more of his face and his famous scar was completely covered by his (currently wet) black hair. His fingers had elongated, no longer crooked from repeated brakes, and his nails were perfectly formed and the deepest of blacks. His teeth had sharpened, but only slightly; indeed they were barely noticeable compared to how they normally were. Overall, Harry groaned in realisation, he'd returned to the size he was last summer before his growth spurt, now just barely 5"6; he'd lost three inches. Otherwise he looked similar to how he always did at this stage of the summer holidays, scars and bruises on a too thin frame. The muscles he'd built up during the school year from Quidditch and the DA disappeared weeks ago.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and got back into the shower. So his Inheritance had come in the form of black finger nails, a smaller stature and perfect eye sight. 'I can live with that. At least I won't need new robes; they're not getting too short anymore.' With a chuckle that turned into a whimper as his ribs made themselves known, Harry went back to his daily routine.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AN: 204 readers and not a single review. Grump. Why do I write?

Please review (pweeeeze). Even if its just to say the chapters are too short/long. Anything. I live for your words

Chapter 2.

**29****th**** July**

Draco Malfoy was not having a good holiday. No, that wasn't exactly true; Draco Malfoy was not having a good summer. His problems had started on the second of June, two weeks before the leaving feast at Hogwarts. Yes, the second of June which just so happened to be his sixteenth birthday, the day he came into his inheritance.

"And what a stupid inheritance it is," Draco grumbled, lying flat on his back throwing a snitch sized ball up in the air and then catching it again. "I couldn't be Vampyre like Uncle Sev or a Fae like my mother. No I had to be a. Bloody. Stupid. Veela." With each word he threw the ball harder, until it was bouncing off the ceiling. "Only beings in the world that have a **soul mate** and die without them or their acceptance. Oh, sure Vampyres don't like being without their mate, look at Sev, but hell, it's better than **dying**. And Fae, Fae don't even have mates, they steal others' and…" 'No! Stop thinking about mates,' he mentally shouted at himself, but it was too late. He curled into a ball on his side as he tried to stop the tears that started to flow as he felt the full force of the yawing pit of emptiness in his heart that he was trying so hard to ignore. It had gotten worse as the summer continued.

"Oh Draco," his father said from the doorway. He sat on the bed, back against the headboard and gathered his son into his arms. "How does it feel?" Now the majority of the wizarding world would have been shocked to see a Malfoy acknowledging emotion, let alone acting on it, but the fact remained that Lucius – like Draco – was a Veela, and an emotional creature. It was, however, never displayed in public. After all, the Malfoy image must be upheld.

"Empty, so bloody empty," Draco whispered into his father's shoulder.

"Your mate's not yet sixteen. Don't worry, they will be soon; a Veela is never more than two months older or younger than their mate. No more than four days until you feel them, Draco, and then it's just a month 'til you see them," Lucius said as he began rocking Draco back and forth. They knew Draco's mate attended Hogwarts. Draco had complained that all he could smell in the castle was chocolate, a sure sign the Veela was close to his underage mate. Come the first day of school they would find his mate.

Yes, they. After returning from a three week business trip, securing a steady stream of potion ingredients from South America to his businesses in England, Lucius had discovered his name being dragged through mud (among other unsavoury substances) by the Daily Prophet, Malfoy assets seized and his own son believing him to be in Azkaban. It had taken nearly a week to sort out, with Avery's (who through the use of the polyjuice potion had pretended to be Lucius) name being added to the court documents, his assets released with interest and a front page apology from the Daily Prophet. Pressing his advantage (and when wouldn't he), Lucius had demanded that the minister show the public that he still trusted him. With very little effort on his part Lucius was granted the DADA position at Hogwarts, all the better to help his son and the new mate.

As a teacher, he was given a suite of rooms and it was a simple enough matter to convince Dumbledore to add extra rooms for Draco and his mate. This would mean Draco would have time to convince his mate to bond in private, not in the hustle of the school like he had been forced to do.

While Lucius had been musing, Draco had fallen into a restless sleep, so he kissed him lightly and slipped out of the room. Pausing at the door Lucius prayed to whoever was listening that his son's mate would turn sixteen soon. He couldn't stand seeing him like this for much longer.

**31****st**** July (2:14am)**

**Draco's bedroom**

Draco awoke suddenly to a feeling of intense joy. The hole in his heart was filled, his mate was alive, they were of age, they were…hurt?

"Father!" Draco cried in distress, as he threw off his bedcovers. His father had taken to sleeping next door and was in the room in seconds.

"Draco? What is it? What's wrong?"

"My mate's hurt. I can feel it. They're in pain. We need to get them. NOW!" Lucius' eyebrow lost itself in his hairline; at this stage of the bond, when they'd not even touched physically as mates; it was practically unheard of for an empathic connection to form. Draco's mate was extremely magically powerful.

"Slow down, concentrate for me. How does it feel now?" He asked a hand on each of Draco's shoulders.

"It's gone now, it was just a flash." Draco lay down on the bed and sorted through his feelings. "All I know is that I need to find them," he pondered for a second, "but it's not as bad as it was just a few seconds ago." He looked at his father to find him nodding in agreement.

"A natural reaction for a dominant, whose submissive is in pain, is to get to them as quickly as possible. You can no longer feel them so you don't know if they're still hurting, therefore it's just your Veela instincts talking now."

"So you think I'm dominant?" inside he was crowing with delight, as a male Veela he had had a fifty-fifty chance of being the submissive in the relationship and the thought of being pregnant was not appealing to him.

"Judging by that reaction, I'd say definitely."

"So, I'm looking for a girl as a mate?" Mentally Draco began to list and go through all the females at Hogwarts close to his age.

"Or one of the many, many male magical beings who can bear young. Don't try to hard Draco. When you smell them you'll know."

"Follow the instincts. I know, father."

"Get some rest; we'll discus this in the morning."

With a nod to his father he returned under the covers. Waiting until he'd left the room Draco placed a hand to his heart, where he could feel the difference. He slept, content in the knowledge that somewhere his mate was out there, waiting for him.

**Sun Room (8am)**

Draco entered the sun room where they took breakfast, not surprised to see his father calmly eating and his mother nursing a hangover. Summoning a house elf he ordered his breakfast and took his seat to the right of Lucius. They ate in silence. Only after he had finished his croissant and picked up his tea, did Draco turn to his father.

"Father, I believe my mate to be hurt." Draco stated calmly. His father merely raised an eyebrow, his cold, indifferent mask in place…after all Narcissa had long ago gone from 'family' to 'public'. "I do not think it would be wise for me to confront them on the train in that frame of mind." He continued.

"And what would you suggest?" Lucius' tone was as calm and indifferent as his mask.

"I propose, father, that you allow me to accompany you when you leave to take up the Defence post. Thus I will be at school prior to their arrival and will be able to determine who they are as they arrive at the welcoming feast. Then it just becomes a matter of informing the headmaster."

"You think it wise to involve Albus?"

"Sadly, it will probably be necessary. If they are Slytherin then we will be able to go through Professor Snape, otherwise we will require the headmaster to explain it so the student in question will be able to trust that we are being honest with them."

"Very well," Lucius nodded, "You shall accompany me, and I will inform Albus of the arrangements this evening. We will depart in two weeks. Is their anything that you require?"

"Yes, father, I do believe so. I received my O.W.L results this morning and…" He stopped as his mother rose and made her way out of the room. As she shut the door behind her, Lucius' eyes calmly darted around the room (quite a trick if you can manage it). After ascertaining that they were indeed alone, he turned to his son, who had a bright grin on his face.

"I take it you did well then?"

"Passed everything and got outstanding in both the theoretical and practical aspects of potions."

"Well, Severus will be pleased. He won't have to lower his standards and allow anyone in." Lucius smiled.

"You say that like Uncle Sev would have let me in with anything less. You forget, his list goes Potions, Family, Everything else, Hair care." Lucius laughed aloud at his son's snide comment.

"I'll give you that." He paused. "What I can never get is why you insist on referring to the man as 'Uncle'. He's your godfather, not a blood relative. Why the only purebloods further away in blood terms than the Snapes are the Potters. Goodness knows that we're closer to the Weasleys than Sev."

"That's hardly the point father and you know it." Draco frowned in concentration.

"Don't do that Draco, you'll get lines, just ask the question."

"You said the Potters are the furthest away…I'm just trying to figure out how Sev and _Potter_ are related."

"Merlin, no Draco. The Snapes and Potters are on opposite sides of the Malfoy family tree. You'd have to go back to the founders' time for the last recorded union between the two families."

"That's a relief, could you imagine Sev and_ Potter_ related."

"Well, they do have the same approach to personal grooming." Lucius said, eyes twinkling. Draco thought for a second, comparing Sev's greasy, never-heard-of-shampoo hair and black work robes which didn't show the stains, to Potter's never-be-tamed rats nest, worn school robes and overly large, mismatched casual clothes. He began to chuckle.

"Now, now, Draco, that's enough. What subjects are you thinking for you N.E.W.Ts?"

They spent a pleasant morning in the sunroom going over Draco's options and subject selection. Once an accord was reached, Draco began to write them down when Lucius' hand stopped him. He looked up with a question in his eyes.

"Draco, these are the best choices for you at the moment, but you will want your sub in class with you. So you might, probably will, have to make changes to accommodate them and what they want to do after they graduate."

"I know father." Draco interrupted softly. "The mate comes first." It was, after all the Veela code, just one line, and it surpassed even the Malfoy codes of conduct…all 241 of them. Draco locked eyes with his father. "My mate will want for nothing."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: Thanx for all the lovely reviews. keep them coming.

Chapter 3.

**September 1****st**

At ten to ten in the morning, anyone who happened to look into the side alley next to Kings Cross Station would have seen a rather dejected and tired looking figure dragging a trunk. Indeed, Harry was extremely tired, his uncle having dropped him off to make his way to the train over an hour ago. He'd had to drag the trunk one handed as this year's going away present had included several broken bones in his left hand.

Harry passed through the barrier to platform 9 and ¾ with a sigh of relief. He quickly cast a glamour over his bruises—not that he really needed to bother, since the platform was deserted. Hauling his trunk into one of the front compartments, Harry began to cast healing spells. Forty minutes later, he'd sealed the contusions on his back, relieved strained muscles, banished infection and set the bones in his left hand. He'd have to brew some fever reducer at some stage tonight as the anti-infection spell would quickly wear off without the boost. Looking at his hand, Harry winced at his obvious mistake; it looked as it had last year. Concentring on his hand he reformed the glamour so that it showed the perfect hands and black nails-that-were-actually-claws (As he'd discovered while trying to lift a quill up off his desk. Already second-hand and showing it, the desk had resembled nothing so much as a scratching-post before he had managed to adjust to them. ).

He was suddenly pounced on by a very familiar toad.

"Sorry about that, stupid thing's always getting away from me," said the boy who'd followed it in.

"It's all right Neville," Harry said, handing the toad back and facing him for the first time.

"Wow," said Neville, shocked. "You've come into your Inheritance!"

"So have you." Harry indicated for Neville to take the seat next to him. "What kind of creature are you?" And he so obviously was some form of creature. Gone was the second shortest, podgy boy of last year. He was easily six foot six, if not six foot seven, and positively willowy. As he folded himself gracelessly into the seat, Harry observed that he was entirely composed of angles.

"Earth sprite," he replied. "First in my family for six generations. Plus gran reckons I'm at least eighty per cent, judging by my appearance. It explains why I'm so good at Herbology and suck at other magic. What about you? What…"

"Blimey!" Interrupted Ron from the door. "Look at you two. You've changed big time." He looked over at Harry again, and fell laughing into his seat.

"What?" Harry practically growled.

"Mate, you could pass as a third year now. And you were complaining about being short before." He cackled, then handed Hedwig, still in her cage, to his scowling friend.

Luna entered the compartment just before the train left, nodded once to each of the boys and promptly ignored them in favour of the latest Quibbler.

&

They talked on general topics for half an hour before Harry snapped.

"Well, are you going to tell us?"

"Tell you what?" Ron asked innocently.

"Your animagus? That's what." Harry lent closer. "I know you spent most of the holidays trying, you got special permission from the ministry."

"It's…well it's…"

"You're blushing," pointed out Neville.

"Come on Ron. Spill."

"Well…Oh, here." He shoved a picture at Harry. He looked at the black bird and back at Ron, puzzled.

"It's a type of crow, Harry, a Relict Raven," Ron explained.

"You know all that stuff about them being 'the harbingers of death' is rubbish, right? My gran all ways said…"

"That's not it, Nev. Crows like sparkly things. If I see something shiny I just have to grab it."

Harry's hand immediately clamped around the locket Remus had given him.

"Not in this form, mate," Ron chuckled, "but I absolutely decimated mum's jewellery. The twin's would have been so proud." They all cracked up at that, knowing that Fred and George would have viewed a crow in Molly's jewellery box with an air of 'why didn't we think of that?'

It wasn't until Ron left to do his prefect rounds that Harry realised that Hermione had yet to put in an appearance. He was starting to get worried about her.

&

When the trolley came around, Harry did what he usually did and bought enough for everyone. After demolishing two pumpkin pastries, and remarking internally about how lifeless they tasted, he snagged a chocolate frog. In less than two seconds Harry figured out that it was impossible to open the packaging one handed while pretending to use two hands. Harry offered it to Neville, who looked at Harry like he'd grown a second head.

"Harry, I'm an earth sprite, remember?" Harry nodded, unsure of where Neville was going with this.

"Chocolate is one of the most potent aphrodisiacs to an earth sprite, and is offered as a mating gift."

Harry dropped the chocolate frog like it was burning him and blushed bright red.

"I…I didn't…" he stuttered as Luna began to laugh.

"Relax, Harry, mating season hasn't started yet…but come November, don't offer anything unless you're serious."

"Right, note to self, read up on earth sprites," he mumbled, not quite quietly enough.

"Don't worry about it too much, gran says that the headmaster gives out a list of what type of magical beings are attending as well as do and do nots. I mean if there were say three vampyres – they're the most common, easily – then the list would say 'Vampyre (3) – chosen mate – don't challenge for possession of mate – allowed outside after curfew.'"

"What about earth sprites?"

"Umm… 'Earth sprite – stay out of their privet garden – given mating gifts in early November by interested persons – do not disturb in early spring.'"

"Privet garden?"

"Yeah, gran says it's how I know I'm ready to have children." He pulled a face (A/N come on, he's sixteen, he doesn't even want to think about kids). "Earth sprites make up a secluded garden that's easily defendable but is soft enough for little ones. You get it?"

"Grow your own den." Luna answered. "Like the Short-Billed Atriconnan."

"Umm…yeah, whatever." Harry and Neville exchanged smiles.

&

Harry jumped into one of the last not-so horseless carriages, breathing a sigh of relief at being free of the press of students. His hand ached from where someone had hit it and he was certain he'd reopened at least one of the wounds on his back. He opened his eyes to come face to face with Hermione. For a brief instance her face showed some indescribable emotion, before being replaced by a bright smile.

"Hi 'Mione. How come I didn't see you on the train?"

"Oh, I was doing my prefect duties."

"But, Ron…"

"Doesn't really want to be Head Boy. But I want the Head Girl position; did you know that it's awarded to the person who exerts the most effort during their time as prefect?"

"Ah…not really, no."

"Well any way, how was your summer? Mine was great," she continued without letting him say anything. "We went all over the world on a surprise tour. Of course that's why we couldn't correspond…I mean imagine sending an owl to China only to find we were in Africa. Actually, we went to both China and Africa…"

Harry tuned her out as she began to prattle about her perfect holiday. He, instead, chose to stare at the castle as they approached, and he felt something loosen inside of him. He would have to do a healing spell as soon as he got away from Hermione. But for the moment, he was home.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: to answer Immortal Sailor Cosmos's question; Fae 'taking' mates is exactly what it sounds like...they steal the mates off other magical beings. This will be explained more later in the story as it becomes.

Thanks to all those who reviewed.

Chapter 4

**September 1****st**

**Entrance Hall**

If anyone particularly observant was to gaze upon the Hogwarts entrance hall at this moment in time, they would note that it was six foot narrower than normal. The reason for this was hidden behind a one way glamour charm, where Draco Malfoy paced and his father waited. Lucius had long since given up trying to get his son to calm down, preferring to save his strength for when Draco sniffed out his mate.

The last two weeks at Hogwarts had been trying on Draco, especially since he'd discovered the most prevalent source of his mate's sent was the hospital wing. The only other students in attendance were Mandy Brocklehurst (Ravenclaw) and Blaise Zabini, both Vampyres. Normally Veela and Vampyre don't get on well, but Draco had know Blaise since he was two, and Blaise had already tasted his mate. She was a (rather cute) fourth year girl who couldn't possibly be Draco's mate – the main source of conflict between the two species. So Draco had spent his time worrying about his mate in the company of Blaise while he checked out his 'territory'. There would be six vampyres at Hogwarts this coming year, and they had spent the better part of a week deciding on personal and public territories as well as the current hierarchy.

As with every year before Professor Snape had come out on top, and he would be the ultimate authority and the only authority over mixed bloods. One is considered a magical being if one is between sixty and one hundred percent of that blood and a mixed blood if one's inheritance is less than that. Draco's inheritance was measured at five percent Fae (much to his disgust) and eighty percent Veela (in classical wizarding terms he was referred to as 85 blooded). Blaise was 73 blooded while Snape was 100 pure Vampyre.

Draco paced, and let useless thoughts run through his head in an attempt to keep his mind off his mate. There was an earth sprite coming in on the train who'd yet to take the potion showing his blood percent, as well as a 62 blooded girl who showed as a Fae.

The last had him worried. Male Fae were honourable, generous and likable. Females on the other hand had a reputation for stealing mates; it was how his mother married his father. He'd have to be on his toes, since he didn't know who it was. No one would provide a name, despite the fact that he'd managed to wrest the result of her blood percent from Madame Pomfrey.

Draco growled softly as students began entering through to the Great Hall, obviously wondering as to why they were entering in the small groups of each carriage. His mate was taking too long! Strong arms wrapped around his waist.

"Calm, my dragon," his father said in his ear. "Concentrate on your mate, but stay calm, Severus will not allow us out if you are agitated." Draco nodded, knowing it was true. Snape stood outside the shield charm and was the only one capable of bringing it down. Depending on who his mate was, Snape could choose to keep the charm in place until after the headmaster had been informed. Draco was regretting agreeing to that precaution as yet another group went by, sans his mate.

"Easy, dragon." Lucius ran his hands up and down Draco's arms as another group went by. He slowly relaxed, letting his eyes slip closed and concentrating purely on smell. Time seemed to drag and Lucius looked worriedly to where he could see Snape.

'Last carriage,' Snape mouthed. Lucius felt his heart freeze. What if his son's mate was no longer at Hogwarts? He didn't have time to worry, because as the last group crossed the threshold, Draco exploded out of his arms. He charged head first into the shield charm. Black wings erupted from his back as he rammed the shield again.

"Draco, no! Stop this at once!" He caught his son in his arms, careful to avoid the inch long claws and lethal fang. "Calm down and tell me what's wrong!" He met the rapidly swirling and sparkling eyes of the Veela.

"I can smell my mate's blood. He's bleeding. I need to get to him."

"Not like you are now, you'd cause him to panic." Lucius froze and looked at the group passing them. 'Him'. The group was three fifth year Ravenclaw girls, Hermione Granger and…

"Draco do you know who that is?"

"My mate," he growled, still trying to escape.

"Harry Potter."

Draco froze and sniffed the air again, watching as the raven haired boy disappeared into the Hall. He slumped back against his father, resuming his normal appearance.

"My mate," he repeated softly. "Harry Bloody Potter."

Snape came up, hearing the last exchange. "Well, this is wonderful isn't it?" he said sarcastically. "Draco, your father and I will be attending the feast. When I let the barrier down you will go _directly_ to the headmaster's office, do I make myself clear?! The password is 'Blood Pops' and you will stay in the office until we bring your mate to you. I do not want to see, smell or hear you anywhere near the Great Hall or the corridors. If I do you will be returned to your dormitory and meet your mate tomorrow night. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Draco gulped, knowing that the potions professor was serious. "I'll be good."

**Great Hall**

Harry started out of his semiconscious state as the dinner plates disappeared. He'd probably eaten a quarter of what the others had eaten, but knew how to make it look more. When he wasn't fading in and out, that was.

"You okay, mate?" asked Ron in the lull between courses.

"Yeah, fine, just…" He pinpointed what had been dragging him out of his pain filled doze for most of the night. "Is Snape staring?" Ron just looked at him, "More than usual I mean."

"Yeah, now that you mention it. Malfoy too." Harry glanced toward the Slytherin table. "Malfoy senior, you twat," Ron corrected absently as the dessert appeared.

Harry glanced down to see a note had appeared on his plate at the same time desert had been sent up. Frowning—that had never happened before—Harry opened the letter.

_Mr. Potter_

It began, bluntly.

_You are required to attend a meeting in the headmaster's office at the conclusion of the welcoming feast. The password is 'Blood Pops' and it is essential that you are prompt. Inform your dorm mates that it will be unlikely for you to return to the Gryffindor dormitories and that they should endeavour to give you the password at a later date._

_We shall see you shortly._

_Professor Snape._

The signature explained the complete lack of pleasantries in the letter.

"Order business?" Ron – who had been reading over his shoulder while stuffing his face – whispered in his ear. Harry just shrugged and noticed Snape had disappeared from the teachers table.

"I'll find out soon enough. Is that blueberry pie?" Sure enough it was, and Ron had soon eaten half of it, much to Hermione's disgust. Harry would have loved a piece but he knew he couldn't eat too much or he would end up spending the night throwing up his intestines, much like he had first year. It distracted Ron beautifully though.

**Headmaster's office**

Draco was back to pacing. It was worse this time. For one thing, the headmaster's office was considerably smaller than the side of the entrance hall, and it was filled with odd shaped, probably priceless objects. For two, he knew who his mate was but was yet to touch him. For three, his mate was, or had at some recent point, been bleeding. And, finally, his mate just happened to be the-boy-who-just-wouldn't-die as the Death Eaters-to-be in the Slytherin dorm referred to him. Oh yes, he'd forgotten about that; his mate just happened to have an egotistical megalomaniac of a psychopath trying to kill him.

Draco let out a loud growl as that…that fried chicken started trilling a bloody CALMING tune. He paced his circle faster and tried to ignore it. If he wanted to worry then he could bloody well worry. He had absolutely positively no reason to…

"Calm down, Draco. You'll scare off your mate." Except that one of course. He flopped heavily into an armchair and looked past his father to see the headmaster, Sev and Professor McGonagall file in.

"Headmaster, would you like to explain why you've called this meeting, now? I've got first years to settle in."

"All in good time, Minerva. We're still waiting on one of the parties concerned to arrive." There was a knock on the door. Draco felt his father's hand clamp his shoulder as he tensed, barely restraining himself from launching out of his seat. "Ah! Do come in Mr. Potter. Enjoy the welcoming feast?"

"Yes, sir," he said, entering and looking around. "What's going on, sir?"

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Quite a few people have questioned me as to what kind of Magical Being Harry is and I'm afraid I can't say - it would ruin the suprise. The answer will be given after we've reached the Severitus portion of the fic (hint, hint massive as hint) which will be approximatly chapter ten - after Harry and Draco begin the 'getting to know you' process.

Oh, and sorry for the mini-cliff hanger ch 6 will be soon.

**Chapter 5**

**September 1****st**** Dumbledore's office**

The first thing Harry thought upon entering the headmaster's office was 'this isn't about the Order'. Lucius Malfoy, Professor now, was leaning against a wall. The second thought was 'definitely not about the Order', as _Draco Malfoy_ was lazing in an armchair. His third thought went along the lines of 'Oh shit! Dumbledore's eyes are twinkling. Not good, not good.'

"What's going on?" he managed to stammer out through the litany of 'not good's running through his brain.

"Have a seat Harry." Dumbledore drew up a seat, placing it right next to Draco's. "Would you like a lemon drop?" That put a halt to the litany. The headmaster's lemon drops were laced with a calming draught that he _just happened_ to be immune to, as Harry had discovered last year.

"No thank you, sir," he said with a hint of steel. "I just came from that _magnificent_ feast, after all." After a moments silence he prompted again, "Sir?"

"Oh, yes, yes. Tell me Harry, what do you know about the magical beings known as Veela?"

"Not much, don't we study them this year?" Lucius nodded. "Well I do know about their charm, heightened senses, phenomenal strength and alternate form."

"That's actually quite a bit. How, or rather why, did you come by this knowledge?"

"Triwizard Tournament. Fleur showed as a Veela." He shrugged. "Know thy adversary. What does it have to do with anything?"

"Quite a lot, my dear boy…did you happen to read anything about a Veela's mate?"

"No," breathed McGonagall. Somehow Harry didn't think that it was a denial of knowledge. He traced her line of sight from Draco to him then back again. It suddenly clicked.

"You're Veela?" Draco nodded. "And I'm your…"

"Mate, yes." Draco was watching him anxiously.

"Umm…What does that…I mean do I have to…What happens next?"

"You bond." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly.

"Headmaster!" snapped McGonagall.

"B-Bond?" Harry was beginning to shake; he didn't like this at all. "How do we bond? What happens if we don't?"

"If you don't bond Mr Malfoy dies," the headmaster said seriously. "The bonding itself merely requires an intimate act."

"In-intimate act, s-sir?" He was definitely shaking now.

"Sex, Potter, I'm sure you've heard of it," Snape sneered.

Harry felt his heart stop.

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Draco watched Harry begin to shake and his breathing speed up so fast, Draco thought he was about to hyperventilate. But when Snape mentioned sex, he blanched and seemed to stop breathing all together.

"Sev!" he snapped at his godfather, dropping to his knees beside his mate.

"He's gone into shock." Snape surged forward, only to be cut off by Dumbledore's back. "Alright, everyone who's not Potter or Draco get out now." There was a ripple of protest. "Out now!" he snapped. "You can come back in when I say so." The three other adults left and Snape moved to the side of Harry that was not already occupied by his godson.

"Be prepared to catch him, he's probably going to jump." Snape said and uncorked a vial. Draco wrinkled his nose as he got a whiff of the sharp scent. Snape waved it right under Harry's nose. He didn't jump, rather broke out into sharp coughs and blinked rapidly.

"Easy Harry," Draco said in a low voice, rubbing his hands up and down Harry's arms. Harry looked up at him. It was obvious the moment he remembered what had been discussed. His breathing sped up rapidly and he began to shake.

"From cationic shock to panic attack in five seconds, impressive," Snape sneered. Draco shot him a pleading look. "Fine. Potter, Potter," his voice dropped soothingly low. "You're safe here…There's nothing to worry about…Nobody's going to hurt you."

Draco's thoughts clicked into place as he remembered what had set Harry off. 'Sex. He's panicking about sex. Why would he…?'

"Harry, listen to me Harry," he said, trying to match his godfather's soothing tone. "I'm not going to force you. I can't hurt you. I'll wait Harry, we'll wait until it's what you want. We don't have to have sex. Not this week, not this month, hell not this year…I can wait until you're ready, Harry. No one will force you."

"You'll d-d-die," Harry choked out in between gasps. Snape moved slowly back to the wall, allowing the blond haired boy to handle his mate.

"No I won't. That's a misconception. I'll live, just so long as you don't reject me." He smiled down at his mate. "And try not to get too close to people who'd threaten our relationship. I'd hate to have to kill them."

Harry gave a watery little chuckle. "Ne-never-r," he promised before giving in to sobs. Draco drew the raven haired boy closer. He relished the contact but wished it was under better circumstances.

After thirty or so seconds of soaking Draco's shirt, Harry drew back, tears still streaming down his face and breath still hitching.

"Lemon drop, please," he managed to say, raising watery jade and onyx eyes to Snape.

"You need a calming draught."

"Dumbledore's lemon drops are covered in the draught," he said. Snape blinked, before bringing the platter towards Harry. After silently watching Harry consuming three lemon drops, Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Draco asked.

"It was nothing," Harry tried to say, but was cut off by Draco's finger across his lips.

"Don't lie, Harry. If you don't want to talk about it say so, I'll respect that. But there will be no lies between us. You will not tell me a lie, okay?" Draco didn't mention the connection that would so allow him to tell when Harry was lying to him.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said after a deep breath.

"That's okay," Draco said smiling into Harry's eyes. Damn his mate was short. A quick glace showed him that his godfather had had enough of the 'sappy stuff', as he termed it.

"You know, Potter," Snape sneered, right on cue, "I'm fairly impressed, not many people could manage to breakdown so…absolutely. All you had to do was become hysterical and it would have been complete."

"I was considering it…between the panic attack and the crying. What do you reckon?"

Snape merely smirked back at him, which caused Harry to grin widely. Draco blinked sharply. He wasn't sure what caught him more off guard, his godfather and mate engaging in…banter, or the utterly cat-like appearance of Harry's teeth. Well it made sense for him to have come into some form of inheritance, considering Draco's own position as dominant. What sort Draco wasn't sure, but that didn't surprise him; Dumbledore would hardly advertise what type of magical being the champion of the wizarding world was, that would just give the Dark Lord intimate knowledge of his strengths and weaknesses.

"So are you up to facing bumble-and-bore and his merry minions yet?"

"Draco," reproved Snape, "your father is out there as well."

Harry let out a cute little giggle. With a disgusted face he pushed the platter of Lemon drops further away. "Too many, stupid drops," he muttered. Draco smirked and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I'll go let them in, shall I?" He went to open the door. Draco retook his seat, but didn't let go of his grip on Harry's upper arm. All he wanted to do was take Harry back to his father's suite, but he would endure this and make sure nothing hurt his mate. 'Hurt his mate'.

He turned his full attention to Harry and ignored everyone else in the office.

"When you came into the Entrance Hall you were bleeding. Where? I can't smell it anymore, but where were you bleeding from?"

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A/N: This is the last of my prewritten, perfectly polished (many thanx to my beta) chapters. That's not saying its the last chapter in any sence, ch 7 is done except for one stupid line that just wont fit (sub-vocal growl.) It will be fixed up and beta-ed soon. I've also done about three quaters of ch 8; rest assured there is a lot more story coming. I guess what I'm trying to say is that from here on out up dates could take awhile, depending on RL.

Once again thanks to all who reviewed.

Altyerre.

Chapter 6

**September 1****st**

Harry froze at the question. Where was he bleeding from? Somewhere small, unnoticeable, scabbed but not quite healed. With a sudden flash of memory and Harry willed his right thumb nail into a glamour disperser. It was the only wandless and wordless magic he'd been able to master, the application and dispersal of glamours. He drew it across the corner of his lip, revealing the split there. He made a show of inspecting the back of his hand for blood.

"It's not bleeding anymore." He said after a moment.

"That's what I said." Draco gently lifted the chin up, inspecting the small split, much too small for the blood he'd smelled earlier, but he decided not to press the issue here. After a five second argument with his inner Veela, he realised he couldn't let his mate get away with lying about an injury.

"You got it on the train?" Harry almost replied 'yes' but remembered the no telling lies rule that he seemingly couldn't break. So how to go about it…by telling the truth of course. He almost smirked.

"Nuh, I got it before I even went to the train station. My cousin and me, we don't get along." 'There, both perfectly true, although they don't have anything to do with each other.' "I must have started bleeding again before entering the Great Hall. Hermione didn't say anything about it." 'Not that she could see it'.

Draco was confused. Harry hadn't lied, but that wound wasn't enough to justify the blood he'd smelt…then he reran everything the raven haired boy said. He almost smiled – it was a beautiful piece of evasion – his mate was positively Slytherin. He'd call him on it later. For now they had a senile eye twinkler to deal with.

"So my dear boy, I'm guessing you have plenty of questions."

"Not really, mainly just the 'what happens now' ones."

"Well, I should give you an overview just in case. You see, Harry, Veela are incredibly dependent on their mate, they will do _anything_ to keep their mate happy." The emphasis was not so subtle. "They are also very protective of their mate and family, indeed it is legal for Veela to kill under certain circumstances, as I assume Mr Malfoy has been made aware of. The other thing you must be informed of is that Veela relationships consist of two distinct roles, the Dominant and the Submissive not a male and female. Understand?" He carried on without a pause. "The Submissive is magically stronger, intensely loyal to their mate, whom they rely on to keep them emotionally grounded, and are able to bear children. The Dominant is physically stronger, possessive and protective of their mate, in charge of the relationship sexually and generally has final say on other aspects of the relationship. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, my boy?"

"Yes sir," Harry said, doing his best to ignore it, "but as to my original question, what happens now?"

"Of course. I do believe that you should spend the weekend together, getting to know one another. You will attend all your classes together, sit at both tables in the Great Hall and, well, we can talk about that later. As of right now you should head down to Professor Malfoy's quarters with young Mr Malfoy here…"

Harry tensed, so Draco intervened.

"You'll love it, the suite has three bedrooms – and they're massive, so private too – two bathroom and a study, not to mention an office for father." Harry relaxed minutely at the mention of his own room. The headmaster noticed.

"Yes, yes, that will be momentary of course. First I need a quick word with Harry, alone." With that the headmaster waved everyone, including the growling Veela, out of the office. He turned to Harry, twinkle fading slightly.

"Harry, I don't think you realise what an excellent opportunity this is," he began, as Harry curled further into his chair. "This might seem like the end of the world to you, I realise that. After all, your prior dealings with young Mr Malfoy have not been the best, I'll grant you," Albus said with a small chuckle, doing his best kindly grandfather impersonation. "However, you have nothing to fear. As a Veela, Draco is unable to harm you. I am told that a Veela's love is the most pure love there is, and for you to have been granted this privilege, why...just about everyone at this school would be only too happy to trade places with you if they could, Harry. You should feel extremely lucky for being deemed worthy of Draco Malfoy." There was no response from the stoic boy.

"There is another reason to rejoice, Harry," he said, deciding to point out the benefits for the youth since he seemed too immature to spot them himself. "With you being Draco's mate, there is no way he can join Voldemort now. In addition, since Lucius is not about to do anything that will harm his son; he will no longer be able to back Tom, which means that Voldemort will lose his main money supply the moment you bond. Don't you see, Harry? We have gained two important allies today; I want you to keep that in mind as you decide what to do next."

The implications of that hit him like a sledgehammer. He stood up and glared at the headmaster. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore had the gall to practically order him to pimp himself for the good of the war. Growling angrily under his breath, Harry pushed past the professor.

"I'm going to find my mate and go to our rooms," he practically hissed on his way out the door.

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Draco paced just outside the gargoyle, upset about being parted from his mate. One look at Severus' worried face froze him in his tracks.

"Uncle Sev?" he asked quietly "What is it?" Sev stared hard at him for a moment.

"At some point soon, we will need to discuss Potter's rather extreme reaction."

"Do you think…?"

"Not now, Draco," snapped Sev. "Some place private." Draco nodded and was about to say something further when the gargoyle shifted.

"Harry?" he questioned quietly.

"So, which way to the new rooms?" Harry asked.

"Follow me," said Lucius, "Minerva, I don't think it is necessary for you to accompany us now is it? You do have first years to settle."

She looked hard at Harry. "Yes, quite," she responded, before walking off.

Lucius led them to a corridor the floor above the great hall. Harry blinked at the bare stone wall in front of him. He turned to Draco, a question in his eye.

"Just watch," the Veela said.

"Marcus, come out please." The wall seemed to shimmer, then Harry realised that it was being pulled back, like the wing it was. The wing of a dragon.

"Marcus, this is Harry Potter. Harry, would you be as kind as to pet him please." Harry did as he was told. "Marcus, Harry has unlimited access to these rooms now, anytime he wishes entrance you will grant it. Understood?" The great dragon bowed. "Harry, to open the door, you must merely pet Marcus or knock on the wall if he is not present." Harry nodded and petted Marcus again. Sure enough the dragon drew back, revealing an archway into a common room.

The room was about half the size of the Gryffindor common room, decorated in shades of cream and warm wood. A thick rug lay in front of the fireplace and two couches bracketed an antique coffee table. The windows had an uninterrupted view of the lake. Three doors led off the common room and a set of stairs was opposite the entrance.

"The stairs lead to father's room. My bedroom is the first door on the right, yours is the middle and the leftmost door leads to the study. There's an interconnecting bathroom between the bedrooms, but it's charmed so you can only leave via the door you entered." Draco said.

"Yes, quite," Lucius said, "Harry, perhaps you would like to have a look at your room and then join us for a drink before bed." Harry nodded numbly; he really needed some fever reducer.

His room, he was pleased to note, was very simply done – shelves, a wardrobe, a bedside table, an armchair and a four post bed. The bedspread, rug and curtains were Gryffindor red and a gold dragon was embodied on the comforter. The house elves had already brought his trunk down, but he knew without looking that they hadn't grabbed his potion stash from where he hid it in the bathroom.

He had only taken three steps into the beautifully appointed bathroom when he hit himself on the head.

"Don't do that, you might need those brain cells one day." Harry stuck his tongue out at the stone mermaid that circled the mirror.

"I'm an idiot," he said.

"Well, yes," she replied. Harry shook his head and cast a silencing charm over the bathroom.

"Dobby!" he called. The elf appeared with a crack.

"Harry Potter, sir! What can Dobby be doing for youse today?"

"I need you to get me something."

"Of course, of course. Anything you is needing, Dobby be getting, sir."

"You'll have to be quiet," the elf nodded, practically bouncing. "It's in the boys bathroom in the Gryffindor tower, behind the loose stone at the bottom of the second sink. It's a plastic bag full of bottles. Don't open it; just bring the whole bag here." Dobby nodded and disappeared with a crack.

A minute later Dobby had come with the bag and left, brushing off Harry's apology attempts. Drinking down three horrible tasting potions he was ready to face his mate.

'Or maybe not,' he thought, exiting his room to the suddenly silent common room.

"Tea, Harry?" Lucius asked. He nodded in reply, resting against the arm of the couch…as far as physically possible from Draco without actually leaving the room. Lucius passed over a cup of tea, along with the bowl of sugar and small pitcher of milk, not knowing how Harry took his tea and not wishing to seem rude by asking.

Harry added one sugar to his tea and picked up the milk to add. He froze when he smelt it. He brought the pitcher closer to his face to sniff again. It was heavenly. His tongue poked out and, before he thought about it, he lapped at the milk. Harry groaned in pleasure at the taste and feeling of pure bliss that radiated from it.

"Harry," said Draco, with a hint of confusion.

"Mine," he growled back, and – before anyone could comment – he was in his bedroom, pitcher in hand, slamming the door behind him.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: okay - slight filler chapter here, I'm having difficulties getting into Sev's head for the next chapter.

A lot of reveiwers have asked me what Harry is, and I'm sorry to say...it's going to take awhile for you to find out. Here is a quick run down of what's going to be covered before Harry's species is common knowledge (ie, known to anyone not me or my beta) skip if you don't want to know:

Harry gets healed (cause he's still hurting - evil Dursleys), the shopping trip (honestly, no mate of a Malfoy would be seen dead in handme downs), our severities revelation (otherwise known as OMG Snape's your dad - how the hell did that happen), Sev tearing Dumbly a new one over the dursleys, the Gryffindors reactions to Harry's new cercumstances and the first day of classes.

Knowing my writting style it'll take one to one and a half chapters a point - so you'll find out what Harry is in...six to nine chapters. Don't shoot.

Yikes, i just relised...this is going to be a looong fic...that's not even starting in on the Voldemort stuff...i can't believe i signed up for this.

**Chapter 7**

**September 2****nd**

Harry awoke disorientated. He ran through his morning wake up ritual trying to figure out where he was, it wasn't his room, the Gryffindor dorm, the Weasleys or even his cupboard. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he remembered the events of the previous day.

'Right, I'm Malfoy's mate…Draco's mate.'

"Draco's a Veela. I'm his mate." Saying it aloud did nothing to help him believe. Shaking his head, he began his morning routine. First he cast silencing charms (none of the other boys in his dorm would appreciate being awoken at 5:30) and then he stayed in the hottest shower he could stand for half an hour. Next he applied healing charms, drunk potions and rubbed in salve, ignoring the mermaid's steady chant of 'hospital wing, should go to the hospital wing'. Then he returned to his room and began the holiday homework that he had not been able to finish.

It wasn't until eight that he heard movement in the common room. He realised, with a blush, that he had forgotten to take down the silencing charm in the bathroom.

He waited until 8:30 before emerging from his room. Both of the Malfoys were sitting on the couches around the coffee table which was set for breakfast.

"Hi, Harry." Draco smiled at him.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well," said Lucius

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted, "about last night and…well…milk tastes nice." He flinched, awaiting the sarcastic comment that was sure to follow.

"It's fine." Draco said, his smile getting broader. Harry blinked in shock.

There was silence. Both Malfoys waited for Harry to speak.

"So…" he mumbled

"So?" asked Draco. Lucius watched with amusement.

"Umm…whatsubjectsarewedoingforN.E.W.Ts?" Harry got out in a rush. Draco blinked at him slowly before puzzling out what he meant.

"Harry," said Lucius slowly, "Dumbledore said that Draco and yourself would be attending the same classes, not that you will be taking his classes." Harry blinked again.

"How about we figure out which classes we want to do now?" Draco asked, patting the seat next to him on the couch in blatant invitation. Harry disappeared back into his room. Before Draco could even shoot his father the petulant look that was gathering on his face, he was back with a quill and parchment. His mate perched on the edge of the couch, still too far to make his Veela side happy, but definitely an improvement on last night. Harry snagged a croissant before turning to Draco.

"So…what subjects did you get?"

"DADA, Charms, Potions, Astronomy, Healing, Runic Rituals, Magical Law and Interspecies Politics. How about you?" Draco asked Harry, who had carefully written down his choices.

"Charms, Transfiguration, DADA, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Healing, The Wizarding World and Magical Imaging."

Draco looked over the lists before grinning slightly.

"What, no Potions?"

"What, no Transfiguration?" Harry shot back.

"I got two Es. McGonagall only took people with an O. Quite disappointing actually."

"Well, you are with me now," Harry smiled and started a new list with Transfiguration and Potions, "and I received an O and an E for Potions." He looked at the two lists. "Would you object to Herbology?"

"Nah. Just scrap Astronomy. Make sure Charms and DADA are down." Harry nodded.

"CoMC?"

"Okay, no problem." Draco said, surprised. Harry's choices didn't mesh with a career as an Auror. "If Healing is alright with you?"

"Yeah, it's on my list as well." Harry tallied the subjects. "We've one more spot to fill."

"Well, it's not going to be Magical Law, that only made the list since I didn't get Transfiguration. How about Interspecies Politics? It's a good foundation subject and…" Draco trailed off, noticing his mate had gone bright red.

"I can't. I didn't meet the prerequisite." Lucius, who had been quietly observing up until this point, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"The only prerequisite was…"

"You failed History of Magic?!" interrupted his son.

"Well, I did collapse halfway through the exam, remember."

"Sorry Harry, I didn't mean it like that." Harry gaped in astonishment. Draco Malfoy _apologising_ to _him_!

"What's this subject?" Lucius brought him back down. "The Wizarding World?"

Harry thought on the description and the textbooks that he had ordered and received via owl post (after owl-napping the Daily Prophet's bird to deliver the order). The texts, _'Magical or Muggle? A Guide to Wizarding Life' _and_ 'Politics, Ethics and Relations: The Shape of the Wizarding World',_ had been incredibly dry.

"Not one that would appeal to you," Harry told Draco. "It's aimed at muggle born students and I was starting to think about changing out of it anyway." Draco nodded quickly; he defiantly didn't want to do that subject.

"How about Runic Rituals? It deals mainly with rituals, but branches out into other non-wand magics."

"Sounds good," Harry replied, adding it to the list. Reading the list back silently, Harry drew his bottom lip into his mouth and began to chew.

"Harry, what is it?"

"Nothing." Two identical eyebrows lifted; he caved. "Well, it's just that I kind of, sort of, havetodoMagicalImaging."

"Oh" said Draco, but before he could speak up and offer to change from Runic Rituals, his father began to speak.

"Well, it's entirely possible to do it in addition to the other subjects, depending on the amount of time required. Eight is merely the recommended load. I do believe that this year's Head Boy did ten subjects in sixth year."

"Oh, well Magical Imaging is only two hours a week class time but instead of an exam it has a folio due. We learn the theory in class and practice little stuff. We do the folio as homework. It's three pieces, one for each of the disciplines; sketch, shape and assortment." Harry's whole face brightened. "Equal points are awarded for creativity and skill of the final designs."

"An extra two hours? We can easily do that, provided we work on the folio each weekend." Draco declared. It was obvious that Harry wished to do this subject badly.

"Done and done," Lucius affirmed after Harry wrote it on the list. "I've got a class to teach, I'll drop this with McGonagall on the way. Enjoy your free day boys; I do believe you're missing Charms, Herbology and a double of my class today. Don't worry about that though, I'll merely be going through the syllabus and giving a pop quiz to find out what – if anything – you've managed to learn from five years of atrocious DADA professors."

"Well, I'm certainly disappointed to be missing that class." Draco flashed a cheeky grin. "We'll make sure to enjoy it while it lasts, father."

"Goodbye Mr Malfoy," replied Harry politely. The muttered 'Lupin wasn't atrocious' was heard but remained unremarked upon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**A/N:** Sorry about the long delay, exams where much more taxing than i expected. This chapter's a little longer than most, so think of it as a reward for having the patients to wait so long. don't expect them all to be this length.

Side note: Can someone who actually understands the formating of explain this to me. whenever i refer to the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests I write N (dot) E (dot) W (dot) T (dot)s only with the (dot)s as well, dots. Looking back over my the story, every time i've done that its come out as N(dot)E. it does something similar to O(dot)W(dot)L(dot)s and our esteemed authors name in the disclaimer. is just my computer or does everyone see it like this? if so, who do i fix it?

Anyway, thanx again to my beta (who has - finally - agreed to try her hand at fanfic, i'll tell you when and where she posts when she does) and all my reviewers. enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

**September 2****nd**

Severus Snape snarled at the last of the third year Ravenclaws as they retreated from his dungeon classroom. An exploded cauldron, four dunderheads for detention and it was only lunchtime. He let loose a low growl as he swept into the hall. He bypassed the great hall on his way to eat with his godson…and his godson's mate. Harry Potter. He couldn't hate him, not after the scene in his office at the end of last year. The teenager had ranted and raved and accused, then apologised (mainly for things that couldn't possibly be his fault) and reasoned and begged and finally broken down completely. The pair had reached an agreement of sorts; a not quiet truce – as snipping at each other was one of their favourite pastimes. He'd even agreed to recommence the Occlumency lessons at the beginning of this year. Now, Snape was wondering if his student was as hopeless as he'd thought.

_**Last night:**_

"_Draco…" Severus said with a heavy heart as he sat in the common room, eyes on the door Harry had just walked through. He dragged his eyes over to his godson, but not before locking eyes with Lucius._

"_What?"_

"_Potter's reaction," he said slowly. "It's indicative of severe sexual trauma."_

"_He was raped." Draco's voice was dead._

"_Perhaps," his father said, "or perhaps not. Either way it is something to be discussed with him."_

"_Go slowly, Draco," interrupted Severus, "push him too fast and his reaction in the headmaster's office will seem mild."_

_Draco swallowed hard._

"_It's not the only issue that needs dealing with." Draco turned to his father with dread. His father raised an eyebrow. "Have you seen what he wears…?" There was a definite twitch to his lips and Draco seemed relieved at the change in topic. Severus continued to brood. _

He shook the memory off as Marcus allowed him entry with no more than a dirty look. He was aware, however, of the chime that preceded him into the common room. Severus spied his godson and nearly groaned. Draco was helping Harry with an essay, potions textbook open between them. The implication of this action did not miss him. He would be teaching Harry Potter NEWT level potions. The other option, kicking his godson – one of the most intuitive brewers since he had left Hogwarts – out, was simply inexcusable. Judging by the smirk, Draco knew this as well.

"Hey, Sev. I was wondering when you'd get here."

"Draco. Mr Potter," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head.

"Want to play 'What's Wrong With the Patient?' with me?" Sev blinked. It was a 'game' he had played when Draco was ten and he had been studying for his healer's mastery. He'd long since earned the title of medi-wizard and could not think of a reason Draco wanted to play. However if he did…

"Of course." Draco disappeared into his room and emerged with six nearly empty vials.

"Hmm…" Sev checked colour, consistency and smell. "Two bottles of the inaccurately named 'fever reducer'; it fights of infection, preventing the fever. A vial of a mild blood replenisher, two vials of a pain relief potion and a strong numbing balm."

"Prognosis?"

"I'd say open wounds, probably left untreated for some period of time – judging by the amount of 'fever reducer' consumed. However I can't see a use for the numbing balm, it's a strong type used by healers when relocating dislocated limbs."

"Well, Harry. Open wounds? Dislocated limb?" Draco asked his mate, who was still staring at the vials in shock…and fear.

"H-how did you kn-know?"

"A little mermaid told me." He sat down next to his mate and lightly pulled Harry's hands into his. "Drop the glamour, babe, show me what you're hiding." Harry shook his head, eyes wide with fear. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We won't judge, Harry, just drop the glamour." Seeing he wasn't getting anywhere, Draco interjected a command into his voice. "Harry, let me see." The glamour dropped instantly.

Severus barely stifled a gasp of horror as he caught sight of Harry's face. The left side of his face was one solid bruise, or rather a mass of several bruises of varying ages. Some were older and yellowing, others still purple and dark. The small split in his lip was nothing compared to the puffy and swollen gash on his forehead over his left eyebrow, just millimetres from the famous scar. He instantly went into Healer mode, casting half a dozen diagnostic charms.

"Draco, let go of his left hand. Now, please." Sev's voice was tight. Draco looked down at the hand he released, only to see it glow.

"_Citatus Paro_, an emergency bone setting charm. It's used by healers as a stopgap measure until the proper potion is available. I'm going to assume that you applied the numbing balm there." Harry nodded his head in shame. Sev let out an explosive sigh and all Draco wanted to do was gather Harry into his arms, but he knew it was too soon.

Sev summoned a house elf and rattled off a long string of instructions that both the boys ignored. After it disappeared with the tell tale crack, Sev turned to the boys again.

"There are contusions on you back," Snape stated. "Take off your shirt; I need to see the damage."

All thoughts of merely cuddling his mate went out the window when he saw Harry's back. He wanted to rend, tear…kill whoever had dared to touch HIS mate in such a fashion.

There were over two dozen strips torn from Harry's back, though less than a quarter were puffed up with signs of infection. The strips themselves where in a crisscross pattern over his mottled and heavily bruised back.

"A whip or a belt, Mr Potter?" asked Snape as he lined up potions in front of Harry. Harry was silent. "Very well, this can wait for another day. Drink the potions, then. Skele-grow first, please, then the rest. Draco, if you will observe, please…" He began to smooth a salve into Harry's back, carefully avoiding the strips of raw flesh. "The bruise balm will need to be applied daily for until the bruising clears up in three or four days. Have you finished with the potions Mr Potter?"

"Yes, sir," he answered in a small voice.

"Then take this." He passed him the bruise balm, once again in awe of the fact that while heavy bruising could take a week to clear, mending bones was a matter of seconds. "In there," he said, giving Harry a (very) light push in the direction of his bedroom. "Apply it to any other bruising. After you're done we will eat lunch."

"Severus…" Draco hissed the moment the door closed.

"Yes, Draco?" he sank heavily back into the chair.

"Where to those $#&^$$%^*(^$!#$%&)~! Muggles live? I'll…I'll flay them alive, I'll smash every bone in their disgusting bodies. I'll decorate the walls with their blood and make them eat their still beating hearts. Then, I'm going to…"

"You'll do no such thing!"

"What?! Did you see what they did to MY mate?"

"Yes, I saw…I also saw that he had not gone to Mme Pomfrey for them to be healed. I also saw the scars that suggest that this is not the first time something like this has happened. Do you understand Draco?"

"No."

Severus rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Draco…your mate is abused. He does not wish this to be known, thus he is not ready to acknowledge it. Therefore we can do nothing to those muggles. After all, their punishment should be in his hands."

"But…what do we do? I can't do nothing."

"You support him, Draco…let him know that you care, that you're willing to listen without pushing and, above all, do not judge him."

"I won't Sev."

"Now…onto the more immediate problem," he said, shaking off the visions of what he wished he could do to the muggles assigned to care for the boy-who-lived. "Lunch."

"How is that a problem?"

"Do you know the specifics of your mate's magical inheritance?" Severus arched an eyebrow. "Do you know what he will and won't eat?"

"Oh."

"'Oh,' indeed."

PAGE BREAK

Harry emerged from the bedroom nervously, mentally preparing himself for questions as he approached the table where his mate and professor sat. Harry's nostrils flared as he caught a delicious scent, and instantly all thought fled. His head whipped around and his eyes locked on a pitcher of milk. He prepared to pounce, but it was suddenly scooped up into the hands of his potions professor.

"No, Potter!" he scolded lightly. Harry flushed red at being addressed like a family pet…Who knew Snape could pull that tone off?

"Sorry, sir." He couldn't suppress the whine in his voice. It was lunch time and, well, milk tasted so nice.

"The milk shall be your reward." Harry cocked his head in confusion. "If you would focus for a moment, you would note the other dishes on the table." Sure enough there were probably twenty tiny crockery dishes lined up on the table. "Since it will take me until tomorrow afternoon to finish the blood trait potion and we are currently unaware of your species," here an odd look passed across the professor's face, "it would be prudent for us to have an idea of your taste preferences. Have a taste of everything and group them for me; things you love on towards the right, things you loath to the left. You may have the milk once you're done."

Ten minutes later Harry was curled in a ball on one of the arm chairs sipping at the milk…purring softly, while Draco looked on with an indulgent smile. Severus shook his head at the reaction, racking his brain for a species that drew such pleasure from ordinary milk. He turned to the food preferences. It seemed he preferred meat…the rawer the better. Sushi appeared the favourite, followed by pieces of beef so bloody as to almost be raw. All forms of fish seemed to rate favourably and plant matter of any description was rated at 'loath'. Although none ranked lower than broccoli, which he'd refused to eat at first smell. When he'd finally agreed to taste it – threatening his milk privileges worked wonders – it had barely touched his tongue before he spat it out. The face he'd made as he scraped his tongue to get rid of the taste was quite cute – not that Severus would ever admit it.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Just a little something to let you know I'm alive and writting - slowly.

**Chapter 9**

Harry absentmindedly rubbed the bruise salve into his arm, reflecting on the day's advents.

_Somebody knew_

Somebody knew about the marks his uncle left on his body, the beatings he'd tried so hard to hide, the abu…

Someone knew, and nothing bad had happened. They hadn't been hurt…his uncle didn't know.

Harry still remembered what happened the first time he'd told someone about his home life. He'd been just five at the time and had only just learned that he had a name, _Harry Potter_, and that normal little boys didn't live in cupboards or have to do all the chores and if they burnt themselves badly on the stove, they went to hospital. A month and a half after school started, his teacher – Mr Murdock – had asked about his home life and he'd answered truthfully. When he returned home from school, Uncle Vernon had _known_. It was the first time his uncle had beaten him. Sure, he'd been hurt badly before, usually by doing his chores, but it was the first time he'd ever been _hit_. Harry had had to stay home for a week.

When he returned to school, his teacher had been replaced. No one would tell him what happened all he could get anyone to say to him was that Mr Murdock had died. Harry could still remember the vivid nightmares he'd had, of his uncle killing Mr Murdock while Harry watched on from the slats in his cupboard. After he had died, Uncle Vernon would turn to Harry and yell at him say it was his fault and he should never have told.

Harry never told another soul about the Dursley's. He got very good at hiding.

Almost all his scars he could cover with clothing, and after third year he'd learned to apply glamours to the scars. Sadly glamours could not disguise open wound and looked 'funny' over bruises. But it didn't matter, after the bruising faded nobody really cared about his scars excepting, of course, the lightning bolt on his forehead. Madame Pomfrey was the sole exception, every time she saw them she would run her fingers across the lines and a small crease would form between her eyes. Then, she'd shake her head, mumble something about rereading a medical history and proceed to fix whatever had brought him to the hospital wing. She did it every time she saw the scars.

The one time she had seen bleeding lash marks was another matter. It was at the start of his second year and she'd been furious. She'd healed him with rapid flicks of her wand and then she'd asked question after question and Harry had lied and lied, his uncles face vivid in his mind. She'd not believed him and stormed off to 'report it'. The next time he'd seen her she'd acted like nothing had occurred.

Harry had been dreading a similar scene of questioning by Snape and Draco this afternoon. It had not occurred. After lunch, Snape had quickly read through his essay, pointed out areas for improvement and excused himself to teach his afternoon class. Draco and Harry had spent an hour more working on the potions essay before heading out side to practice inanimate to living transfiguration. Or rather, turning lake pebbles into cabbage patch moths. Draco's first attempt turned out more like a snitch with butterfly wings than a moth and it had taken them a good fifteen minutes to catch it before Harry could show Draco what he'd done wrong. They made moths for nearly two hours – Draco would transfigure them then Harry charmed them different colours. Harry'd just charmed one sky blue with a pattern of interlocking broomsticks, when the moths' swarmed up and attacked Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Untransfiguring them did little to help, merely resulting in a hail of multi coloured pebbles destroying more of the pumpkins.

Dinner was spent listening to Lucius listing the reasons some students should not be given wands – like the fifth year Hufflepuff who'd be asked to cast a shielding charm and had sent a blasting hex towards him instead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Saturday morning saw the Malfoys and Harry headed into Hogsmade to upgrade Harry's 'despicable wardrobe'. Harry, who had never gone clothes shopping except for robes from Madam Malkins readily agreed to his mates father purchasing 'what was needed', on the proviso that he paid him back next time they went to Gringotts.

Four hours, and massive amounts of cloth, later Harry was bitterly regretting ever agreeing to anything…he was sick of being a dress up doll, he wanted to move. Now.

"And you'll need cloak, to go with the formal ensemble, of course…" Lucius turned to the clothier,

"No!" snapped out Harry.

"I beg your pardon?" He raised an elegant blond eyebrow, and Draco, whose head had been buried in colour swaths, came up behind Harry,

"What's wrong?" he rubbed strong hands up and down Harry's tense arms

"I have a cloak…You've ordered at least three more… I don't need another…"

"Harry…"

"No!"

"Alright," said Lucius, "I guess we're done here."

"Yes, finally," Harry jumped down. It was the work of moments (and a couple spells) to have the pre-made items bagged and for Lucius to pay. Harry grabbed his share of the shrunken bags and took of towards the door.

"Race you back!" he called over his shoulder, and, with a wicked grin at his shocked mate, began to run.

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Harry burst through the door, miles in front of Draco. He came to a screeching stop as he observed the potions master fast asleep on the couch. Placing the bags by the door, he walked closer to investigate.

He caught a whiff of something sweet on the air and drew a deeper breath. It was coming from the half full goblet in front of Severus. Picking it up to investigate, he once again couldn't help the tongue that darted forward to lap at the liquid.

The taste exploded on his tongue and he melted to the floor in front of the couch, purring loudly. It was almost as good as milk.

His eyes popped open at the sudden idea. He could add milk. Harry's eyes found his mate…who was eyeing him with shock.

"Draco? What's wrong?" Draco sat on the couch above him as he went back to lapping at the sweet liquid until he couldn't get his tongue far enough into the goblet to get more. He didn't even think to tilt it. Seeing his dilemma, Draco removed the goblet from his hands. He sniffed the liquid and pulled a face.

"Draco?" Harry looked up over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Sev's blood."

"WHAT!" Harry screeched, jumping to his feet. Snape awoke with a snort. He blinked at the two boys, before turning to his godson.

"What are you doing with my goblet?"

"Harry was drinking it."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, sir," Harry blushed bright red. "It tasted nice…not like the milk though."

"That's quite alright, P-Harry," Snape said, obviously trying to be nice. "But I think you definitely need to take the blood trait potion, and soon." (Beta's Note: And the understatement of the century goes to...) He stood up in a billow of robes. "Coincidentally, I have just brewed a fresh batch," he said, sarcasm lacing his voice. "Come down to my office once your father returns."

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The original blood trait potion, as invented by Rowena Ravenclaw, actually did very little, merely classing a person as muggle or magical. It was improved upon by Salazar Slytherin's grandson in an attempt to make a potion that showed _how_ magical a person was. For its purpose it was a failure. What it did however was project a misty grey circle above the cauldron, filled with a white light. It was latter shown that the amount of white light showed exactly how much 'being' blood a person had flowing through their veins. Thus, the four people surrounding the cauldron could do little more than blink as the grey circle filled rapidly with white light.

"100%," Draco breathed. "That's…unexpected." He sat closer to his shell-shocked mate. Snape added the next potion to the mix and two glowing globes separated, one a blood red and the larger the same jade green as Harry's eyes.

"A 65-35 split, I do believe," said Snape. "The red is Vampyre, obviously, and the green is…" Harry leaned forward to catch the name of his other being, but he merely trailed off, staring into space.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Lucius in shock, "This'll turn have everyone in a mess."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Evan's wasn't muggle born…it's impossible," Harry starred in shock at the elder Malfoy,

"Father's right Harry, she'd have to have some magical being blood for you to be blooded…"

"Oh!"

"She was a red head yes?" Harry nodded in reply, "Was she good at any one subject, Herbology perhaps?"

"Charms, my mum was best at charms."

"Hmm…I don't know…well she obviously wasn't a Vampyre…"

"So, James Potter" interjected Draco, "was a Vampyre and Lily –"

"James Potter wasn't a Vampyre." Snape interrupted harshly, his hand ghosted over the green blob. "I am."

"What?"

"James was my mate." His other hand cupped at the red blob. "He left me, right after mating season. Next thing I knew he was with Lily Evans. Nine months later you were born." He looked Harry in the eye. "Nine months after the wedding. Eleven months after mating season." His onyx eyes stared hard at the red blob. "You're part Vampyre," he looked to Harry again. "You're mine." A single tear rolled down his cheek. Harry fell to the floor.

"Y-your-rs?"

"Mine. My son." He grabbed Harry into a rough embrace. "I don't know why I can't smell it."

Harry froze. He was being hugged by his professor. His professor who hated him. His father. Harry's arms wrapped around Snape of there own accord.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and Harry returned to his seat. Draco squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I think you need to start from the beginning."

Snape nodded and sat back down on the floor. After a deep breath, he began.

"It was during a potions class in sixth year. The potion called for human tears. James and Black were stuffing around and they dropped the bottle of tears, the professor cast the _lacrima_ charm on James to refill the supply. The smell was intoxicating, so I tasted it. When a Vampyre finds its mate it's like coming alive, every sense focuses on them. I couldn't smell anything but his scent, and all I could hear was his heart beating like a drum, _ma-te, ma-te, ma-te_ over and over again.

"I confronted them after class, in the corridor…just me, James and Black. They laughed, hard, and Black began to tease. I snapped, grabbed James, pushed his back to the wall and kissed him, hard. After that, there was no denying I was his mate.

"We had to hide though. There was a war going on, we were on opposite sides. I was already marked; the Potters were high on the Dark Lords kill list, so we dated in secret. Only Black knew, no one else.

"After Hogwarts, I convinced the Dark Lord that I needed peace to complete my mastery in potions. We bought a pair of flats on Morgan Way, side by side, and replaced the connecting wall with an illusion. If you knew we lived together you could see what really was—one large flat—otherwise it was two flats.

"Everything went well, we were happy, and then – mating season. I still do not know what happened.

"Vampyres...Vampyres are fertile only once every two years, for a period of thirty six hours. After that a Vampyre turns to – well – stone and hibernates for a day.

"When I woke up, your father was gone; all his stuff had been taken, no indication of where or why he went. It was a month before _anyone_ heard about him again. It was during that month that Black and I truly began to hate each other. Your father had not contacted him and he was convinced I had done something to James. He visited daily to blame and accuse – and help me find James.

"I once again became an active Death Eater, fearful that the Dark Lord would find him first, and Black, an Auror, did not arrest me, though he had proof – for James' sake. It was Black who first found him again…he left me a note.

"'_October 2__nd__ 1979 – James Charlus Potter graduated third from Auror academy.'_

"That was all it said. You have to understand, James didn't want to be an Auror. Black was the Auror, Lupin was saving up to go to law school, become a barrister. And James, James was studying magical medicine – he was going to be a healer. He used to joke that between the three of them they had everything covered. 'Sirius'll catch the crooks, Moony'll put them away, and I'll clean up after' – that's what he'd always say.

"Not three days later there was an announcement in the Daily Prophet as to the up-coming nuptials of James Potter and Lily Evans. They were married on the fifteenth of October and nine months later you were born Harry James _Potter_. I hated you for that…the fact that you were a _Potter_—something you should never have been. You should have been Harold James Snape…that's what we were going to call our firstborn boy, Harold Potter was your grandfather… he and your grandmother had died just before our graduation. James wanted to remember them in your name…according to the tradition."

"Tradition?" asked Harry, interrupting for the first time, trying to stave away the shock.

"Pureblood naming traditions for when there are two fathers," answered Lucius, "middle name is the first name of the primary father – the birthing father—and last name is the same as the dominant father."

"Oh."

"Between a witch and a wizard, the first name is agreed upon, the middle name is solely at the discretion of the mother, and the last name is the same as the fathers."

"Right…Sooooo…You just went on ignoring them and hating me?"

"I tried – ignoring James I mean…hating the issue of Lily Evans was easy…especially one who bore the name _Potter._ I couldn't. I dreamed of him every night. I relived our every moment together. I tried to figure out how… how he could leave me, how he could marry Lily…how he could lie and claim to have dated her in school.

"But life went on, and so did the war…and I played my part like a good little Death Eater, though it made me sick. But I stayed…there was nowhere else to go, and no real reason to leave. Until I overheard details of a plan to attack the Potters – that was when I turned spy for Dumbledore. I could not allow harm to come to my mate. You were just over four months old. Less than a year later and I'd failed; sure Voldemort was gone, but so was my mate. I thought I had nothing left." He reached a hand up, cupping Harry's cheek. "But I was wrong. You're my son."

"What form of being was James Potter, Sev? What is my mate?"

"He…he was..." He closed his eyes and placed his head in his hands. "Not now Draco."

"But…"

"Severus is right, my dragon, tonight has already been too long. We will address this in the morning." The last said to Snape, who nodded absently. The three got up and began to head from the room.

"Harry…I'm going to register this at the ministry. You're my son; you'll no longer have to live with those muggles."

"I – thank you."

"The registry building is attached to the ministry. While I'm there…I mean…would you do me the honour of taking my last name? It is yours to use."

"I don't want to lose my last name."

"Perhaps Potter-Snape? If you would like."

"I'd like that."

"Severus," called Lucius once the boys were in the hall. "I've already filed for custody of Harry on the grounds that he is Draco's submissive mate."

"And I'll not contest that. I just wish him to have my name, as he should have."

"Good. You know I'll never lock you out of his life."

"I know Lucius, I trust you. Now, go. Look after him, this has been a big a shock to him as to me, I'm sure."

Lucius gave a sharp nod and left the man on the floor to his contemplation.


End file.
